He sat musing for a while, then burst into sighs and lamentations.

These being exhausted, he rose to depart. He stalked away with a solemn
and deliberate pace. I resolved to tread, as closely as possible, in his
footsteps, and not to lose sight of him till the termination of his
career.

Contrary to my expectation, he went in a direction opposite to that
which led to Inglefield's. Presently, he stopped at bars, which he
cautiously removed, and, when he had passed through them, as
deliberately replaced. He then proceeded along an obscure path, which
led across stubble-fields, to a wood. The path continued through the
wood, but he quickly struck out of it, and made his way, seemingly at
random, through a most perplexing undergrowth of bushes and briers.

I was, at first, fearful that the noise which I made behind him, in
trampling down the thicket, would alarm him; but he regarded it not. The
way that he had selected was always difficult: sometimes considerable
force was requisite to beat down obstacles; sometimes it led into a deep
glen, the sides of which were so steep as scarcely to afford a footing;
sometimes into fens, from which some exertions were necessary to
extricate the feet, and sometimes through rivulets, of which the water
rose to the middle.

For some time I felt no abatement of my speed or my resolution. I
thought I might proceed, without fear, through brakes and dells which my
guide was able to penetrate. He was perpetually changing his direction.
I could form no just opinion as to my situation or distance from the
place at which we had set out.